Gunfire exploded in the clearing. Reflexes had Zane shoving Eve to the ground.
She grunted as her shoulder and hip hit the earth. Dirt and grass flew up around them. More gunfire ricocheted, this time from Carter and Natalie as they fired back, protected by the trees. A thud echoed to Zane’s right, and Natalie groaned. When he turned to look, bright red seeped through the white cotton at her shoulder.
Zane scrambled off Eve and rushed to Natalie. With Eve’s help, they pulled her behind another tree. From ahead, Carter hollered, “A little help here!”
Eve was on her feet in seconds, her gun drawn as she joined Carter. Tightness closed around Zane’s chest, but he knew he had to trust in her training. Had to let her do what she needed to do. He helped Natalie lean against a tree and pressed a hand over the wound.
“Shit,” she gasped. “Maybe I should have listened.”
“We’re gonna get you out of here.” He picked up her good arm and placed her hand against the wound. “Pressure here. You hear me? Don’t let up.”
She bit hard into her lip. Nodded. “Just get the fuckers.”
When Zane reached Eve and Carter, Eve was already switching magazines. Two assailants lay dead in the park, but two more were closing in fast. He skidded to his knees and quickly rummaged through the backpack until he found the flash grenades in the bottom. Jerking the pin free, he threw one into the park. “Go!”
A boom echoed, followed by a flash of light, blinding the attackers. Eve stepped out from behind the tree, lifted the gun in both hands, aimed at the man on the right, and fired. The bullet hit him in the throat. He went down like a board. She swiveled and aimed at the guy on the left and did the same. Gunfire erupted, but the man only got off two shots before he was on the ground.
“Fucking A,” Carter mumbled from yards away. “Archer!”
Lifting his Beretta again, Zane swiveled and saw what Carter was staring at.
Two more men coming from the direction of the parking lot. One carrying what looked like a rocket launcher on his shoulder.
“Fuck me,” Zane muttered.
Carter whipped around. “We need to haul ass.”
Eve stepped out and fired. Missed. Fired again. Bullets thunked against wood. She ducked back behind the tree, just barely missing being hit. “What about—?”
“I’ll get her,” Carter announced. “Just fucking go!”
He was already running for Natalie before Zane could stop him. Before he could argue. The guy with the rocket launcher lowered it to his shoulder and lined up his sights.
Grasping Eve by the collar, Zane pulled hard. “Go, go, go!”
Muscles in his legs burned as they sprinted for the far end of the park. Gunfire rang out behind him. He turned to fire one. Twice. Felt like he was in a dream. From the corner of his eye he saw Carter lift Natalie over his shoulder. Saw the blood running down her arm. Saw Carter push his legs into motion and head the other direction.
No. They were going the wrong direction. That would lead them closer to the parking lot. Where they didn’t know how many others were waiting.
He opened his mouth to yell for Carter to stop. The rocket launcher hissed.
And then the world exploded.
18
Dirt and leaves and grass filled Eve’s mouth.
She coughed, rolled to her side, and grimaced at the burn in her side. Heat spread over her skin. She pulled her eyelids apart to see the trees, the forest, everything in flames.
“Get up. Gotta keep moving.”
Zane’s hand tugged on her arm, pulling her to her feet. In a daze she tried to make sense of the explosion. Tried to see through the flames and smoke to what lay beyond. Tried to find—
“Carter!” She jerked hard on Zane’s arm, stopping him from pulling her.
“He’s dead, Eve.”
“No!” Eve struggled against his grip.
Zane’s dirt-streaked face appeared right in front of hers, his eyes wide and intense, and she registered his strong arms gripping her upper arms. “He’s dead. They both are. And we will be too if we don’t get the fuck out of here now.”
Dead. They . . . Oh shit. Natalie. Carter. Both of them.
Zane yanked her forward. Her muscles reacted even if her mind was having trouble keeping up. Gripping the gun tightly in her other hand, she ran with him through the trees, away from the carnage. Her stomach rolled. Sickness threatened, but she fought it back. Just like every other time an op had gone wrong and someone had died.
But this was Carter . . .
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about them.
They stumbled onto a golf course. Zane didn’t let up on his hold. He tugged her into the trees, around shrubs and rocks and saplings, not giving her a moment to rest. Not giving her time to think. Only time to feel.
Dead.
No . . . Not both of them. Not because of her.
They reached another parking lot, this one for the golf course. Sweating and out of breath, Zane finally released his grip long enough so Eve could double over and suck in air. Her stomach rolled all over again. And then the burn started low and bubbled up.
She stumbled for a bush and retched what was in her stomach. Pain consumed every part of her. Dead. Both of them. All because of her.
“Come on. I got a car.”
She registered Zane’s voice. Not the words or the tone. Just that it was familiar. He tugged on her arm. “This way.”
Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she stumbled after him toward a Honda. A back window was broken in. He popped the passenger door and helped her in. Tossing the pack in the backseat, he moved to the driver’s seat, pulled the panel off the area below the steering wheel, and yanked out a handful of wires.
She wanted to ask him where he’d learned to hot-wire a car but couldn’t find her voice. Her throat burned. Her stomach ached. And when she thought about Carter and Natalie . . .
“I’m going to be sick.”
Zane shoved her head between her knees. “Breathe.”
Seconds later the ignition started. Zane leaned back in his seat. “Hold on.”
Time rushed by with the scenery. Eve didn’t know how long they drove or in what direction. She heard Zane on his cell phone but didn’t know who he was talking to. Couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing. All she could see was Natalie hefted over Carter’s shoulder, Carter running the wrong way, and then the world burning in a fireball like the one in Seattle. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head against the window and tried not to get sick all over again.
She awoke sometime later. The car had stopped. It was raining. It was always raining somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Cool air washed over her when the driver’s door opened and closed. “I changed the plates,” Zane said, settling behind the wheel. Water droplets stuck in his hair and on his shoulders and arms. “And I don’t think anyone’s following us. At least not yet.”
Her eyes slid closed again as he pulled back onto the highway. Tipping her head away from him, she focused on the hum of the windshield wipers. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her stomach hurt, and her head throbbed. She didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to feel. The hum of the wipers grew louder.
It was dusk when she felt the car stop again. Blinking several times, she looked out the windshield at the monstrous log cabin with its multitude of porches and windows and different levels in surprise. “Wh-where are we?”
“Safe house.” Zane popped the door and stepped out into the rain. “Come on.”
In a daze, she climbed out of the car and moved for the front porch. Rain ran down her cheeks and beaded on her clothes, but she barely felt it. She climbed up the steps and moved onto the porch after him, waiting while he checked the pots along the side of the house for what she suspected was a spare key.